A Little Advice
by Kermit's Rainbow Connection
Summary: George is assigned by Arthur to reteach and reform Merlin as Arthur's servant. However; both their plans go askew when Merlin ends up teaching George instead. Tag to "A Servant of Two Masters".


**Hello! I was inspired to write this when I was looking at the Merlin page, and I noticed the lack of fics that included George! I mean besides Merlin, he's the best servant ever! And also I was in the mood to write something fun since all my other Merlin fics are rather brooding. **

George found himself experiencing the most splendid, envious life anyone could ever hope to live. He served the royal household. What more could life possibly offer? He knew anyone would kill for the position he currently obtained. _He_ served the king, an honor bestowed upon very few. At least, for now he did. His new master intended on replacing him with his old manservant, Merlin, who recently had endured a rather unfortunate encounter with bandits and miraculously arrived back at Camelot's gates with his life spared. And while George had never had the chance to meet him, he had heard quite the—controversial reports, so to speak, about the fellow servant. Many of them uttered by the king himself.

His appalling manners had become renown around the castle, and George often observed the maids giggling at the derogatory terms Merlin spat at their highly esteemed king like 'clotpole' and 'dollophead' which their true meanings still remained unknown to him. Furthermore, the once farm boy accompanied his master on _every_ trip and quest assigned to King Arthur ever since he'd been hired. Rumor had spread that the manservant firmly refused to leave Arthur Pendragon's side no matter the situation, for whatever inexplicable reason. There was loyalty and then there was…that. He wasn't certain how exactly to describe it. George always believed in a man doing a job to the best of his abilities, but what Merlin did was simply beyond the line of duty. He knew not whether to admire Merlin's valiant and unwavering devotion to their king or recoil in disgust at the vulgar words he chose to dictate his vocabulary towards most nobles.

However, George decided not to delve too much in such matters that did not concern him specifically or directly. Instead, his personal duties and responsibilities to whichever master he was assigned to stayed his greatest priority. Yet if he was bold enough on a day, he would converse about a topic that marveled him beyond compare.

Brass. Such a magnificent metal crafted by only the finest of blacksmiths. It presented the illusion of gold, the mineral fortune lusted and hunted by all men, and yet its stunning beauty captivated his mind unlike any other alloy. And brass provided the best possible opportunity to practice his favorite chore of all. Polishing. How its surface gleamed once finished with an extraverted effort on his part; it made him beam in a rather self-indulgent delight. No one though seemed to grasp brass' exquisite and unique qualities. All throughout the week, he had quipped several humorous jokes about the precious metal to the king, who in return, had not even cracked a smile!

Still, brass could not control his thoughts now. King Arthur had entrusted him with the task of reforming Merlin to be fit in every duty as a servant. Of course, Arthur had warned him of his manservant's fondness for the tavern and how he actively avoided his obligations to the royal by spending ridiculous amounts of time there. Although George vowed to himself that by the end of the week, he will have fulfilled the mission given to him; that Merlin would be just as good and efficient a servant as he.

OoO

Merlin sat in a wooden chair, feet propped up on a table, while listening to this George's incessant ramblings about polishing of all things. _"It'll be fun." _Gods, he somewhat wished he _had_ killed Arthur when the formorroh possessed him. The servant's voice weaved in and out of his ears, and the warlock thought it impossible to attune his hearing to the extremely dull lecture.

"…the rag is the key tool in the art of polishing…the boot is just one of the many objects that can be polished but others are terribly overlooked…"

Morgana still troubled his mind. Even though he had defeated her, she lurked in the woods, still alive and breathing and hating. Never did he seem to possess the capability to finish her at the opportune moment. He would stare down at her unconscious, sprawled form on the forest floor. His hand raised about to deliver the final blow and—he couldn't do it. Not in the good memory of what she used to be, he couldn't. Pity, remorse, guilt; perhaps a collaboration of all three always halted his attack because she was _his_ mistake. His biggest regret. She could have been so _amazing_, and yet he allowed her to fall to ruin and descend into madness.

He could create a cloud of ignorance above his head, lie, and convince himself that he could amend the unintentional tactical error on his part. But what would any of that amount to, in the end? Morgana loathed him to the core, maybe more so than she did Arthur. On him she wouldn't hesitate to end his existence. So why exactly did the same logic not apply when the roles of cat and mouse switched for the two of them?

Merlin detached his gaze from the floor and looked up at George, who in an act of desperation to actually spark his interest, had starting polishing _his_ mud-coated boots lazily resting on the table to work as an 'interactive demonstration'.

"You see, as I move the rag back and forth in a steady motion on the sole of the boot, it slowly attracts any residue onto every fiber of the fabric. With a good and thorough wash, it should be ready to tackle any other mess," George lectured matter-of-factly.

The wizard proposed, "Yeah, listen, George. This, this is all very nice what you're doing for me. I mean, I don't remember the last time these boots shined as they do now. But I think I've had enough for today. How about we continue tomorrow?"

"But sir," the other servant objected, "his Majesty assigned me to reform you as a servant. I must not fail him or you in that task."

"Reform? With all due respect George, what's there to reform?" Merlin asked in a slightly mocking tone, arms outstretched.

"Well, I am not one to judge, but the king has made several complaints about your 'tavern runs'. He says in doing so, you neglect your duties."

A sense of dread crept upon him as he recognized that the court physician had accidentally condemned him to be even more so a subject of distaste in the kingdom, and that these 'tavern runs' would ruin his credibility for the rest of his life.

"George, let me tell you something," Merlin confessed and continued, "Arthur hates boot lickers."

"There are people who clean their boots with their tongues?" George inquired, appalled.

"No, of course not! 'Boot licker' is just a figurative term. You see, boot lickers are servants who answer to their master's every beck and call, and are so obedient to a point where it becomes, well how do I put this? Maybe, I don't know, a tad… irritating," was the muttered answer.

It was only when George lowered his head a little in shame that he fully regretted his word choice.

"Do you think I am among this unpleasant race? I suppose it would explain the king's attitude towards me."

Perhaps Merlin couldn't fix everything, definitely not Morgana, but maybe this endeavor to help someone could prove to be successful this time.

"I know exactly what you need. George, we're going to the tavern."

OoO

Arthur was not happy, to say the least. It all started when, deciding to abandon his responsibilities for a moment's notice, he strolled into the armory to check on Merlin's and George's progress around late afternoon. Only to find the room vacant of the very two people he sought. Thinking they might be training elsewhere, the king then scoured the castle far and wide; his long, time consuming search providing no avail.

A thought struck him. The two servants could be in the kitchens, preparing his meal. Yes, that must be it. So Arthur sauntered to his chambers, proud with his conclusion, and sat at his desk awaiting his dinner while writing a significant speech due at a council meeting the next day. Yet evening dawned, speech finished, and no meal arrived.

Within minutes he was storming down to the physician's chambers, as quick as his feet could carry him.

"Gaius!" Arthur called out upon bursting open the door.

The old man looked up, startled from where he was seated with a book in hand.

"Yes, Sire?"

"Where on earth is that _idiot_ Mer—oh gods. He's done it again. He's at the tavern, _isn't he_? Oh, he is not going to hear the end of this! The last time it was _two whole days_, Gaius! The man is becoming a worse alcoholic than Gwaine!" he fumed, and before the court member could respond, Arthur was already out the entry way with the door slammed shut behind him.

The king marched down the path to the tavern, quite discontent with this new development, when the distinct cackling of what could only be drunken men reached his ears along with their clamorous, almost incoherent conversation.

"You sure—hic! Tha, that the king—hic! Will, will be okay with this? Hic!" Arthur registered the voice as George's. As he continued to approach the scene, he discovered that George wasn't alone with Gwaine and Merlin tagging along at both his sides.

"With us being cluuueleeessly drunk? Of course not, my dear Georgie! Princess will be making a right fuss!" Gwaine answered. But oh was he right.

Merlin then remarked, "Yooou know, the thing I don't get? Why you alwaaays call him Princess when he's king now. I mean, I got the joke when he was prince, but noow wouldn't you call him Queen then?"

"Na, na Merlin! Yoou," Gwaine paused in his response to poke Merlin's chest which Arthur reasoned as a way for him to address the man next to him (even though he already spoke his name) adding, "Are thinking too hard. The joke is only funny when you call him Princess, and even funnier when he's actually there to hear it!" Both Merlin and the knight proceeded to erupt into a loud laughing fit.

"I've got a joke! Hic!" George declared happily.

"Well then leeet's hear it, Georgie!"

He started up excitedly, "A servant and a bottle of polishing—hic! Walk into a tavern—"

Arthur sighed and shook his head; he astounded at the fact that the servant could retain his dry humor in such intoxicated state.

Gwaine interjected, "Wa, wa, wait! Hold on a second! We 're just at a tavern, and I didn't see no bottle of polishing walk in!"

"That's 'cause I think it was a joke, Gwaine," Merlin responded.

"Suuure didn't sound like a joke to me, _Meeer_lin."

Enough was enough. While their drunken ramblings highly amused Arthur as he observed them with a satisfied smirk, he did have to reprimand his servants for neglecting their work. Merlin's behavior he could understand; he was a lousy manservant even when sober and would of course journey to the tavern to slack off on his chores as he always did. But…but George; the king could not fathom his latest actions. Why would _George_, the dullest man alive whose only ambitions lied in serving, agree to scurry off into the night behind his master's back and have a drink? A few too many drinks seemingly, judging by his recent drunken conduct and slurred speech.

The master of the two servants strode up to them, arms crossed, feet squared, a steely cold determination painted on his face; the perfect image of discipline that would strike fear in the hearts of those who ever disobeyed. Gwaine and Merlin burst out laughing just at the sight of him.

"Oh, Arthur!" the latter of the two exclaimed almost with relief, "Thank goodness you're 'ere! Theeese two 'ere are drunk off their rockers; I thought I was going to be stuck with them fooorever."

Arthur retorted curtly, "I wouldn't exclude you from that mix, _Mer_lin."

"Are mad at me?" the servant asked of him in a small voice he could nearly pity. Only _nearly_.

"Yes, Merlin, I am in fact mad at you! I'm mad at all three of you, but I'm starting with you first!" he argued lifting his arms to further convey his frustration. "You've slacked off on your duties, once again, and I didn't where you were and…and do you know how long and far I looked for you and George?"

"Well, appaaarently you didn't bother to walk the two-mile radius from the castle to here," he quipped with a chuckle.

"That isn't the point! Look, I was…mildly concerned about the whereabouts, of, um, my dinner and you didn't bring it to me," Arthur lied through his teeth, not wishing to express his true worries for Merlin, and added, "Sir Gwaine, you missed jousting practice today. Tonight you're on double guard shift. Off you go, I suggest you sober up before you take up your post."

He smiled as the knight grumbled curses under his breath, and pushed past him striding rather grumpily on the dirt path up to the castle.

"And George! I know you're new at serving me and I'm not exactly the most typical master, but I am not one that lets servants easily slide off for their misdemeanors."

George straightened his posture and staggered over to Arthur, a confident grin masking his face. "You know what, _Sire_? _Yoou_ can stuff it! Hic!"

The young Pendragon gaped at him, taken aback by his tremendously rude attitude. No one dared treat him in that respect, the closest person being Merlin, and he hadn't been _that_ blunt about it. Alcohol must have gripped some strong influence over his actions, but something had to have burrowed deep within him for George to just blurt that out. That morning, Arthur had heavily been under the impression the servant was enamored with him.

"Merlin?"

"Hmm?"

"What exactly happened to him?" The king questioned.

Merlin asked bewildered, "Who?"

"I don't know, maybe the man standing right next to you!" he asserted.

"Oh, him. Yeeeah, what's wrong with George?"

"_Mer_lin, I was asking you!" he hissed at him.

"I think it may have possiiibly had something to do with me? Look, he wanted to know why you didn't like him so…sooo, I told him the truth," the servant replied while averting his gaze.

Arthur muttered angrily, "You did _what_ now?"

"He, he wanted advice on how to make you like him better, sooo I told him to quitbeingsuchabootlicker and relax a bit," Merlin answered hurriedly, running words together.

"Merlin?"

"Ye-p." He popped the 'p'.

"George was supposed to teach _you_," the royal stated calmly.

"Mmhmm."

Arthur interrogated, "So how is it that it worked the other way around?"

"I dunno know, maybe I'm just an influuuential person," his friend reasoned with a cocky, lopsided smile.

"You are the spitting image," he countered sarcastically.

Merlin quizzed, "Hey George, do you think I'm an influuuential person?"

"Absooolutely Merlin. Hic! You're a role model for all servants," George spoke sincerely. Merlin's goofy grin only grew. He then spluttered offensively at the king, "Letmeguess, _Sire_, we'll be thrown in the stocks for our intoleraable behavior?" Merlin had corrupted his fellow servant's mind far more than Arthur imagined, but most likely the alcohol was actually playing the contributable role in that. After all, who could call _Merlin_ a role model?

"No George," the master responded with a smirk, "I've got a far better chore for you two to do in the armory, that supposedly both of you love." Merlin raised an eyebrow in confusion while George's face lit up in glee. "_Polishing_."

**This is the first humorous Merlin fic I've written, so hope I did well with that. Mainly the inspiration for this came when I was thinking about how Merlin had to be trained by George, and yet in the later episodes he never improves in his duties as a servant (we know from all of Arthur's further complaints). **

**I know the drunk dialogue was probably awful, but haven't had that much experience in the field since one I've never been drunk and two I've only seen drunk people on television (who most likely aren't actually drunk but are faking it so they can act decently). Please don't mistake the drunk dialogue for spelling errors; it'll intentional. I know it didn't seem like it, but the kind of main goal of this was for George to stick to Arthur. (Also I really wanted to write drunk Merlin and George together. Gwaine was fun to write as well.) And yes, Merlin and George are buds now. Deal with it. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed this and please review! **


End file.
